


make the world safe and sound

by therethedanceis



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: F/M, Spoilers for Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 19:14:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8726935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therethedanceis/pseuds/therethedanceis
Summary: [Post-AYITL — beware spoilers]"I want the baby to have your last name."





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've had a lot of thoughts about the revival, and this is what happens when I think too much.
> 
> Title from Hamilton's Dear Theodosia. (It was almost lyrics from Sweet Child o' Mine.)

She almost expected her to be a boy, this beautiful, squalling bundle resting on her chest, because the parallels would be almost too comical otherwise. If she wrote it into a novel or screenplay, she’s sure Doyle, Jess, or any other editor would say that the symbolism of the entire situation was too heavy-handed. But, Rory’s reality has always been tinged with a bit of storybook unreality, and there was always supposed to be a Lorelai the Fourth, as strong and infuriating and winsome as the three who came before her.  

“Hi there, Mommy.” The soft voice interrupts her quiet cataloging of her daughter’s long eyelashes, petal lips, and button nose, and she looks up to see her own mother standing in the doorway holding, as ever, a cup of coffee.

“Hi, Grandma.” Rory smiles, shifting the infant in her arms so they can both rest more comfortably. “There’s someone who wants to meet you.”

Lorelai approaches eagerly and smooths a tender hand over Rory’s hair before leaning over to peer at her granddaughter. “Oh, Rory,” she breathes. “She’s perfect.” 

“Do you want to hold her?” Rory asks, and at Lorelai’s nod, transfers the baby into Lorelai’s arms. The infant settles in, mewling soft sounds of contentment as her grandma snuggles her close. 

“Welcome to the world, little girl,” Lorelai murmurs, pressing a nose to the tiny forehead. 

“Her name is Lorelai,” Rory offers, a soft smile playing at her lips. She’s sure some part of her mother had been expecting it, but Rory is still glad to be able to give them both this gift. To be a Lorelai, to always know that the strength and will of all the Gilmore women before her flows in her veins, has been one of the greatest privileges of Rory’s life. It’s an inheritance of unapologetic independence, unabashed passion, and unwavering principle, and though she has sometimes forgotten those qualities or been scared of what they entailed, she wants to pass them onto her daughter. “Lorelai Sophie Huntzberger.”

Lorelai the Second’s face stills, and she turns to look at Rory with the question in her eyes, all the while still rocking the baby in her arms.

For so long, it was just the two of them, the Gilmore Girls, fiercely blue-eyed and self sufficient, challenging the world and taking no prisoners. Rory wouldn’t change that for anything, but she wants to give her own daughter something else. She hesitates to call it more or better, but whatever it is, she knows Lila will be able to take for granted the steady and constant presence of a father who adores her and will know from the very beginning that it’s okay to trust someone else to cherish the most difficult parts of her, because her parents do.

She and Logan aren’t together. Not yet, not exactly. But he’s here, not just because of their daughter and not just for now. Despite all the mistakes they’ve made, and whatever else might come their way, he has been the pillar holding her upright and steady the last few months — the last few years, if she’s being honest with herself, since they saw each other in Hamburg — in whom she has entrusted her worries, joy, self-doubt, and success.

She knows there’s a ring somewhere in their apartment for when she’s ready. The knowledge doesn’t scare her as much as it might have once. 

They’re — she’s — getting there.

Ten years, even ten months, ago she’d had herself convinced that her career held the promise of certain doors opening, if only she could find the keys. Choosing Logan and committing to a life with him would have meant finality, closing doors on a future she’d still thought of as wide open. 

But now, her book is mostly done, in Jess’s hands, ready to be torn apart. She thinks The New Yorker or Vanity Fair might even publish an excerpt of it at some point, if she can muster up some charm and energy to reach out to those editors, and she has another piece that’s running in  _ The Atlantic _ — post-election ruminations on single motherhood, charming small town America, the absence of fathers, and expectations of becoming more, in which she artfully parallels her story and her mother’s with President Obama’s and America’s. It’s not hard-hitting, investigative journalism, but it’s smart and poignant, a thoughtful piece that definitely won’t fit on a menu at Luke’s. 

She’s proud of the final version as well as the drafts that ended up in the recycling bin, none of which would have been possible without Logan’s enduring, implacable support, mouthwatering paella, and incisive comments on everything from pacing to comma placement. 

It had never been a question whether or not she would tell the father. For as much as she is Christopher Hayden’s daughter, she is also Luke Danes’s, at least a little, and she knows how much it still crushes him that he hadn’t been there for the first thirteen years of April’s life. If she could help it, she wouldn’t do that to either father or daughter. 

But she’s really, really glad it’s Logan, who was at her doorstep less than ten hours after she hung up the phone, looking slightly wild with an airport teddy bear clutched in one hand while the other ran anxiously through his hair. Who looks at her everyday with so much love but hasn’t asked for anything at all, who has let her call every shot and was at every appointment and was silent and solid and there, holding her hand, for twelve hours of labor while she screamed expletives at him and cursed his existence. He’s given her everything she’s asked for these last few months and taken nothing in return.

More than anything, she wanted to give this to him.

“We talked about it,” Rory says with a shrug, not really wanting to justify her decision, as though that could possibly be a sufficient enough explanation for her mother. 

It had been late — in the evening and in her pregnancy, with their little butternut squash doing jumping jacks against her ribcage, keeping Rory awake, who then in turn kept Logan awake — when she broached the subject.

“If it’s a girl, I want to name her Lorelai.”

He’d grinned at her, eyes crinkling with his smile. “I expected no less. The world needs another Lorelai Gilmore.” His mirth made his eyes sparkle. “But what would we call her? Surely not Ivy.”

She shook her head. “Definitely not.”

He pulled his phone out to scroll through Google Translate with one hand while the other continued to knead soft circles into the sole of her foot. “We could call her Cara? It’s ‘four’ in Punjabi. Or Tess, short for tessera — Greek. We’re WASPs, seemingly nonsensical nicknames are par for the course.”

Her lip had quirked into a half smile at his earnestness and her heart had swelled at the sight of him taking so much care in nicknaming their unborn daughter. Whatever doubts he had about himself, he was going to be an incredible father. She was more sure of that than she had been of anything in a long time, which had led her to give voice to a half-baked thought that had been whirling around in her head the past few months. Before she’d spoken the words out loud, she hadn’t reached a final decision, but with the idea in the air between them, it felt unequivocally right. 

“I want the baby to have your last name.”

His face had turned serious as he looked back up at her, his phone still glowing in his hand. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” She rushed to qualify, “I mean, obviously you have a say. I’m not making a unilateral decision or anything. If you wanted to hyphenate — though I think she’s going to have a hard time with Scantrons as it is… Or we could portmanteau it? At least one of us should probably change our last name in that case.” She cuts herself off mid-ramble to get to what she really means. Quietly, but firmly, she tells him, “I just want her to know she’s yours, too.”

All of his thoughts were mirrored on his face, but he gave voice to only one of them. “It’s a hell of a burden.”

Rory shrugged. There were a lot of things they still hadn’t figured out pertaining to the Huntzberger dynastic plan, but there was one thing of which she was irrevocably sure. “You’ll be there to help her carry it.” Whatever life had in store for their kid, it was going to know both she and Logan would be there unconditionally. 

Her mother is looking at her with an expression she can’t quite read, similar to the one Logan had given her in that moment. But whereas a touch of gratefulness underlay his reaction, her mother’s seems more a mix of concern, confusion, and disappointment. “Rory, I just… You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” She fiddles with the plastic bracelet on her wrist, a tenuous hospital-provided connection between mother and child to represent and protect the forthcoming lifetime of heartache, exhaustion, and joy. 

“I’m not you, mom,” Rory admits quietly, looking at her mother straight on. Even though she has always tried to be just like her mother and was proudest when other people pointed out how much she was like Lorelai, after thirty-two years, she’s finally realized that it’s okay that she’s not her mother. She needs and wants different things, has different priorities and concerns, and has a very different man than her father willing to be by her side. She needs to follow a different path. “And Logan isn’t dad. He and Lila deserve to have each other. And… I love him. This is it. He’s it.” With a half smile, thinking about the future they’re going to build together, knowing that it’s going to take time for things to be okay between her mom and Logan, she says, “I know you don’t trust him, mom, but I do. So please just… trust  _ me _ .”

Lorelai still looks concerned, a rash of emotions crossing her face, but ultimately settles on a smile, even if it’s slightly forced. “I just want you to be happy, kid.”

She returns her mother’s smile with a lighter one, which turns even more radiant at the sight of Logan in the doorway. “I’m really happy,” she replies, not looking away from him.

At her extended hand, he comes into the room with an easy smile on his own face and takes his daughter from Lorelai when she shifts the infant toward him. An olive branch, perhaps. They’re still awkward around one another, just a little too polite and careful, but there’s time for familiarity to grow. 

Rory watches these three people, the three most important people in her life now, and is content.

She’s not sure if they would've ended up together if she hadn’t gotten pregnant. She likes to think she finally would’ve been brave enough — she’s always been selfish enough — to ask him to be with her, but a large part of her knows she wouldn’t have ever gotten there. In that alternate life, he probably would've married Odette and fulfilled the pre-ordained Huntzberger destiny. She would've sent a crystal vase as a gift for a wedding she wouldn’t attend, written a book, and maybe never had children. 

They could have been happy as those people, but it would have been a tragic ending.

But she did get pregnant, he showed up to stay, and she finally asked him to. 

Because sometimes the universe means for certain things to happen, even if the fabric of the plot feels entirely unbelievable. And here they are, better for it: alive, elated, together. 

**Author's Note:**

> Ivy...IV...4...just, you know, so we’re clear. 
> 
> And I don't know how many of you are holdovers from the Rory/Logan fandom of yore, but 'Sophie' was the R/L 'ship name (and, as it happens, ship name). The HMS Sophie was the first command Jack Aubrey, Master and Commander himself. In case you were wondering, that's why her middle name is Sophie.


End file.
